I'll Be Good
by IncompleteWithoutLife
Summary: She attracts her own burdens. Or at least that's what her father believes; she is the definition of trouble. Fate seemed to have a peculiar infatuation with making her life so very deflating—now if only she could dissuade the ever idealist brunette of that fact. Or rather if only she could halt herself from falling so pathetically in-love with a girl who exudes optimism. AU.
1. Issues

_**Hate me, or hate me some more for not updating my other stories, but I couldn't resist this.**_

 ** _Very brief synopsis ;_** _AU in which Jade is more like a greaser of the modern era, and Tori who is the school's "everything" sunshine and all, is inexorably drawn to the student body's self exiled mystery. Tori really tries to stay away, she really does, but of course fate does not heed to Jade's persistent belief that no good would come from their undeniable attraction. And then suddenly Jade doesn't want the only other human (besides her mother) who sees the greater good in her to keep her distance. Tori's a pleasant irritation, and very persistent._

* * *

 _ **I'll Be Good**_

It's rather the extremities than the problematic trouble that she always keen to attract. Her father—before any of this was even remotely his fault—had spoken how she always seemed so very vulnerable to all of the minor world's problems. Maybe there was no exceptions in regards to her infatuation with the theory that the universe was indeed very obsessed with paving a deceptive yet concrete fate; one that was tactical in having her shoulder the burden of inconvenient situations. While she was entwined with trouble she could be biased and say that she didn't seek the trouble—that would be all to cliché to even finish that saying. Jade knew she created the problems; with a purpose might you mind her. It was just simplistic in her answer, because she would never allow herself to truly realize the mundane reason as to why she loved the thrill of wreaking havoc.

"It seems you didn't attend your mandatory detention," Her eyes flicker around the office mischievously, fingers thumbing through the folders he'd previously handed her.

His lips release a weary breath, eyes watchful in his dreading stare. She can only presume the next sentence about the come from his mouth is one of which she will not particularly like. It's the calculative stare lurking about his features that verify her assumption.

"Jade I understand your home situation—"

He's fit with a harsh scowl; her lips immediately twitching into a sneer. There's a contemplative readiness in her eyes that is gone within the moment.

"No, Eikner I don't think you do actually—which is _none_ of your concern by the way—so how about we stick to the conversation at hand. That or you can forget about whatever deal you're about to try and cut with me." Her voice slithers into one of ready defensiveness.

He has tried to begin a discussion about her home life since he had the traumatic chance to experience just exactly what that life is like, or at the very least he received a minuscule glance. He's excessive in his endeavor to lift her spirits from her home life, or rather very intrusive once he had found that she was a distinctly reluctant in allowing people into the complexities that absolutely defines her existence. Truthfully he held a respect for her before he had the opportunity to let her mother and father become symbolic in her personality; she admired that aspect of their relationship. Yet that was decimated within: littered beer bottles, reeking scent of cigarettes, and the disdainful lurk of that rancid evidence of drugs in her father's eyes, and in her worn countenance as she witnessed views on her morph into pity.

He stupidly inclines his head, shoulders declining in optimism at his subtle, yet fruitful venture. She is nearly ready to form some witty quip about his plaid tie to lessen the somber mood, but the door creaks open as fast as her lips clamp around the vowels.

"Principal, Eikner I need some clarification on the Homecoming venue there's…" The voice travels in waves, a hint of guilt echoing once the teen catches sight of the evident interruption she's caused.

Jade lets her mouth tamper with the indications of a smirk and a clever insult, yet she is reduced to merely observing the brunette—stormy irises traveling across a slim form encompassed by the school's cheerleaders practice uniform, red and black hues intricately forming the school's logo that's embedded on the upper right of the shirt; there's a binder on settled in the girls hands. She cannot refrain from appreciating the teens. Despite practically despising the obvious cliché standing before her, but she can concede to acknowledging that the brunette is aesthetically pleasing. Yet she's known this girl since the beginning of sophomore year—she won't become victimized by the simplicity of her beauty.

"Oh. I'm sorry for interrupting. I'll wait outside until you guys are done."

Legs maneuvering themselves underneath her, she lifts into a stance all the while gathering her helmet and duffel bag; mind already tinkering around her next destination that she was thirty minutes late for, her lips lift into a short smirk at the principal once she notices his furrowed eyebrows.

"Actually Princess," Jade strides towards the door with an almost leer in her movements. "I'm finished here."

"We're not done Jade. Though I do know you be staying so we'll leave it at detention for a week and _we're_ going to finish discussing the rest of your punishment tomorrow." Principal Eikner comments evenly.

"Yeah whatever you say _Sir_." Jade mocks tersely.

Her feet halt directly in front of the rooted brunette; her nostrils inhale the vanilla perfume. Orbs' fleetingly meeting a pair of coffee brown irises that upon inspection she notices holds a little lighter hue than her beloved drink. She hitches her eyebrow expectantly; interest sparking at the observing stare with which she is regarded with.

"You'll need to move from the doorway in order for me to leave Vega," Her eyes fall to the girl's body purposefully. "I mean the view is very enticing. But I have somewhere to be."

The reaction while mute screams in volume, there's a certain lack of uncertainty and more of an inexplicable curiosity. It's far too peculiar and so very observant that Jade simply shoulders her way past the standstill. She doesn't bother to swivel back around to assist the girl in cleaning up the scattered papers she hears falling to the floor.

* * *

It was normal to society, yet this was far too peculiar; this felt all too mundane. A little toddler settled to her left: mother diagonal to him, and father perched to her front. By all accounts this was very much a ploy—because here she was shoulders tensed, hands clenched around her fork and very silent towards the atmospheric queerness. Her little brother is rambling about some outlandish event at his pre-school, one that she's heard over four times now, but he eminently with vibrancy reenacts to their parents. She's waiting for the dire situation to become even more eerie; her mother almost never cooks diner or has the time to.

"Then Danny took the dinosaur and threw it across the cafeteria." Jayden finishes dramatically falling back into his seat.

Jade smiles fondly at him, shaking her head lowly at his antics.

"That's great Jay…How was school Jade?" Her mother questions tentatively.

Jade lets her eyes flicker from her father who is silently eating his pasta; she maneuvers her stare from brown stain on his shirt. Scowling at the optimistic pep in her mother's radiance, of which she hasn't seen in a while. She wonders the exact occasion as to why they have decided to play the rugged family from the seventies. Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she gives her mother a small smile.

"Nothing much," Her attention flits from each of her parents. "I had—"

"That reminds me. That Principal of yours called. He said you've been getting into some trouble lately." His voice is harsh vocally, and so gruff; the repercussions of smoking a pack a day.

He has the attention of everyone, not one of them expecting him to engage in on the conversation. Usually it's Jayden and her mother who fills the blank silence. She scowls at the sudden smirk gracing his lips; bloodshot sclera's a contrast to his vibrant green irises. Or rather his bored eyes that are mischievously watching her grasp on her utensil tighten with every second that tics by. Her peripherals catch the scrunched features of her mother.

"There was a little accident with another senior is all."

Her father chuckles humorlessly.

"It seems he pretty close to revoking your scholarship. I told him to go ahead and do it, with as much trouble you've caused he should've been taken action. I guess he's too much of a bitch to do something about—"

"All you do is sit on your ass all day. If anything you're the bit—"

"Ethan, Jade. That's enough. Jade why don't you go help Jayden get ready for bed. I'll be there in a little bit." Her mother commands softly.

Her limbs remain halted, locked in a stare down with her father. It's only when her mother clears her throat does she assist Jayden in hopping down from his chair. They're only in the hallways five feet away when she hears the startling slam of a chair hitting against the ground. She lifts the little form into her arms once there is a frightened tug on her hand, her arms wrapping around the warm body tucking itself into her like they'd melt into one.

"It's just a little noise alright." She exhales wearily at the shouts soon following her statement. "You're safe with me—I'm sorry Jay. "

At first it's one drip of liquid, then there's the flow of tears staining her shirt.

…

Leaning heavily on the wall, she pushes off of it a second later at her mother's inviting wave. Settling into the scarred couch, she allows the cool hand to brush away some of her stray hairs escaping her bun. Her eyes blankly settle on the façade of a reality show.

"I wanted to tell you guys about the raise I got today."

The frustration in the depths of her stomach flares. She wants to speak on the fact that her father should be the one providing for them as well, that he shouldn't be the one sucking them financially dry, that her mother shouldn't have to work three jobs in order to pay bills; so she conceded to nodding dumbly—pretending not to notice the slither of a tear sliding down her companions cheek.

She can only dream of the carefree persona of the actors in the dramatic show.

* * *

"This is the last time Liam. I won't do this again." Jade mutters lowly.

His smile isn't malicious, it's sincere, and eerily echoes in her mind at the sheer scale of how bright his teeth truly are. His scowling eyes contradict the grin—she ruefully accepts the items wrapped heavily in cloth, plastic, and anything in between. She shoves them carelessly into her combat boots, and the more heavier items into her duffel bag.

"That's what they all say sweetheart. Just don't go getting caught now…wouldn't want your pretty little face to get damaged if you know what I mean."

She reminds herself that she has to do this for Jayden, for her mother, and to prove to her father that the three of them can mend his lack of help.

* * *

 _ **I really have no business even creating another story for this pair when I haven't finished not one of the preexisting ones, but I couldn't help it...this should be like five chapter max (chapter are going to be a lot longer than this), and if you're still holding onto Night Changes, then look for an update within the next 48 hours. Than you for your time...**_

 _ **Write Ya Later ;)**_


	2. Silver

_**Time flies by so quickly. I don't know why I've only just noticed...**_

* * *

 _ **I'll Be Good**_

"Need I remind you of the uproar you've caused in this year and last year alone," He breaths evenly. "Jade I know you love it here even despite of all the trouble you're keen on making. But I can't keep letting you off with warnings, detentions, suspensions, you're teetering towards expulsion. This—this is nothing compared to what Vice Principal Dickers wants to do with you."

His voice is so desperate, tone so sincere; she can do but incline her head shortly. It garners a grateful smile.

"I've actually asked her to come and…"

The familiar creak of the door interrupts the man's sentence. She's not overly shocked to see a breathless teen dressed in the same apparel as the day before rush in to stand to the left of her. Her peripherals seek out the bead of sweat leisurely dripping down the side of the brunette's forehead. Tori averts her eyes once they quickly form eye contact, before flipping her attention towards Principal Eikner. Jade cannot fathom why that action amuses her.

"I'm sorry Principal Eikner…and I'm sorry to you as well Jade. I didn't mean to be so late. With the homecoming game and dance and—"

"You were five minutes late. The world's not about to fly off balance so you can calm your sh—"

"It's fine Tori." He cuts in with a daring glare directed in her direction.

Jade snorts at the perceptible guilt still swelling in the girl's stance, it garners a short glance in her direction from the brunette, and she simply responds with a tiny smirk.

"So I assume you already know what this is about. It's very short and sweet. Jade needs some type of extracurricular activity and since you happen to be the Head of Homecoming Committee, Jade here has so graciously offered to be your assistant. So she'll be your shadow who will help in any way she can and will not _complain_ about _any_ of your request. Very simple, no?"

It's spoken with a fine finality that not even she could find a plausible rebuttal as to why this entire situation would result in a complete turmoil. Yet there's an odd determined incline of the brunettes head; poised up-rise of the girls shoulders, and an indecipherable flicker storming about the shade of eyes a hue darker than toffee.

Jade does not fully comprehend the connotations of the equable implications, nor does she believe that the solution would bode well with her.

…

They're walking in muted silence. The prattle of loitering students evident in their ears, yet instead she can only hear the defiant footfalls of their own. She observes how distinct her own heavy steps are compared to the brunettes—her own an emphatic type of tune demanding authority, and the very discrete melody that the brunette seems to exude. Exuberant, and thick with an almost delicate echo about the careless steps. Maybe she delivers methodical, while the chipper teen expels the very opposite, heedless in placement. Another reminder of exactly how contradicting they are to one another.

Her lips curl into a low and impertinent sneer once she witnesses the fourth grin—polite and authentic in meaning—the brunette throws towards a student, even more so at the almost admiring blush the greeting coaxes on the scurrying freshman. Groaning lowly at the ever present smile permanently stuck on the girls face, Jade watchfully scowls at the teen. Smirking momentarily at the perturbed look she receives at Tori's chanceful glance.

"Your existence is really starting to irritate me Vega." She mutters dully.

"Wh—I haven't even done anything. And that's a really rude thing to say." Tori flounders out with a disturbed frown.

Patience thinning upon the second, Jade halts her tracks and allows a frustrated exhale to disperse from her nostrils. She was late once more. If the heckling vibrations of the device in her pocket were any inclination to the impatience of the man, then surely she would reap the repercussions of keeping him waiting. She did not have the time nor the tolerance to deal with the airy-headed cheerleader.

"I don't have time for this. Do you have something for me to do or not?"

And her assertiveness proves that the question is more of a demand rather than an inquiry. Still it garners the respective reaction, and she has a sputtering teenage cliché on her hands. If the feeble shake of the girls head isn't relieving enough. Instead of exemplifying her satisfaction, she lets out an indignant huff and wordlessly bustles past the brunette meekly eyeing her.

The reaction thwarts her for evasive reasons not exactly justified. Or maybe she was covertly expectant of some sort of defiance that would appear in a fiery passion. Lips parting in order to release a weary breathe; none of which she can rationalize between the impending reckoning she foreshadows in her near future, or the unrealistic internal views on a girl she hardly knows.

* * *

Her fingers scratch the cold tile—for a moment there is a soft voice sending a wave of warmth blooming within her chest. The line is etched into her memory, causing her throat to clench with suffocation. Her stomach has an ache with such a ferocious intensity she cannot bare to clutch onto the sore ribcage, and yet her arms curl around herself in attempt to relieve herself of the pain. It does nothing to ease the sting of reality. Her eyes peel open and instead of shooting to the reopened wounds forming on her knuckles she lets them drag across the matted floors, lingering on the fresh droplets of blood, before meeting the steel frown. He doesn't meet her stare when he takes note of the faint nod of confirmation. In one motion he's standing a few inches of the kneeling teenager. Her hands flinch before the hit and instead of concerning for the throbbing headache, she forces herself into an uneven stance. The oxygen refuses to properly enter her lungs, but that doesn't stop her from clumsily throwing a punch.

He blocks it effortlessly but she has been numbed to the pain for a while now. There's a river of blood flowing from her nose, the sleeve of her shirt is preventing it from staining the ground even more. When she stumbles back from a splitting hit, she can feel the red liquid rolling down her cheek and it makes her still. Swallowing the barrier clogging her windpipe, she continues on. It's one strike after another and she doesn't register any of her own hitting its target, her own body is paying the price of carelessly throwing punches, and she revels in the searing heat that's tracking from her face down to her heaving chest and flaming across her aching torso. There's a slight pause in between the blows and for a second she thinks it's her breaking point, until the moment is gone. Her left cheek has taken the final round and her eyes roll. Back colliding with the ground she waits.

Waits for the inevitable pain to consume her whole, and she has enough decency to groan when a lurch of fire appears in the pit of her stomach.

"Enough!" He yells flatly.

Her breathing is labored and her mind muddled with pain, but her body reacts to the demand. Limply falling onto the mat, apathetic to the harsh sound it must've created, Jade spits out the lingering saliva. Her eyes wearily removes attention to the distinct red tinge to the liquid.

"You're already disrespecting my views by participating in those barbaric fight clubs. I can excuse that insolence given your financial situation, but I will not excuse the blatant distraction currently preoccupying your attention."

"Nothing is _preoccupying_ my mind Alec." Jade mocks evenly as icy.

Instead of replying to the sardonic teen, he fits her with a irritated scowl—hands idly shoving back the wet blonde hair cradling the contours of his face. His blue irises attempt to penetrate the steely glower of the pale teen, but his attempts are futile. Removing himself from the stalemate of a stare off, he moves over to his water bottle, easing the towel about his face.

"Were your winnings up to par last fight?" He questions dully.

Maneuvering her body to lean against the cool cemented wall behind her, with a wince she inclines her head somberly. The earnings were not sufficient when attempting to cover the bills her mother was short of, or cover the private lessons her brother needed to take in order to retain his student scholarship; yet it had covered at least one of the bills.

"It served its purpose," Pausing she breathes a worn breath. "Liam didn't have anything else for me. So I had to book another fight Saturday."

The corners of his eyes crinkle in disdain, the sharp glare in his light blue orbs blare his scorn for her choice of earning money.

"And do you still use the excuse that your father's a dead beat and the reason goddamn drug dealer is because since your life is so pathetic you're striving to make druggies out of the rich kids."

He speaks it with venom, but his intent isn't malicious, yet her bitterness for him has not wavered even with is strives to mend their strained relationship.

"And like you're the ideal merit. You're just as guilty as I am in this Jason. Or need I remind you that _you're_ the one that introduced me to Liam before you decided to go off and play war hero?" Jade utters with an angry vehemence in her sarcastic bite.

The desperate reply withers on the tip of his tongue before he silently chucks a water bottle her way. He watches her passively empty the entire bottle in one gulp, before his eye catches sight of the clock on located on the right wall of the provisional arena. With a disgruntled breathe he begins his ritual to make a hasty exit. Jade pretends that his quick movements do not create a panic inside her unsteady mind, instead she involves herself with the task to maneuver from her huddled position.

"I have to get home Mi—"

"I know," She mutters distractedly. "You have a wife and a kid to get home to. I know."

And for the first encounter in months she allows the hurt to seep into her voice and wrap around the statement vaguely. Her face twist in pain while her arm instinctively wraps around her midriff. Her ribs are positively bruised, and her hand extends to halt the concerned man in his tracks.

Alec merely peers at her with conflicted pale blue irises; he's contemplative for a moment, defined jowl clenching before he inclines his head in a stoical manner. He's swiftly moving towards the door, yet swiveling dubiously around on the heels of his feet.

"Ice those ribs before you even think of doing any combat this week. And if you even think of defying my heeding, then next time I won't be so merciless in training. I've been waiting for any excuse to hinder you of fighting in that moronic underground arena."

Maybe it's the authoritative timbre that subdues his usual warm and collected voice, or rather it's the absurd trepidation slithering into her body that he will—he always does—indeed keep his word on that threat. She could always make a hasty delivery run for Liam, but that pay does not pay as well as the money she receives from the sporadic appearances she makes in the ring. Her last rib injury had hindered her from competing for over two months, and they were already behind three on the rent. Jade wryly inclines her chin respectively.

"Lock up when you're done," Alec tentatively meets her harsh stare. "And stay safe Jade."

* * *

Head apathetically resting atop her folded arms, she attempts to obstruct too much of the chatter around the asphalt from entering her ears—she merely accepts the penetrating commotion with a resentful grouse pettily directed at the student body. Her eyelids shut only momentarily, because she can nearly swear that she hears a swift shuffle far too near for her fancy. Her intuition is proven once her head ascends from her perch on her forearms—her stormy cerulean orbs widen with the incentive of the form in all its embodiment; she attempts to conceal her consternation by stoically observing the teen with faux boredom.

It occurs for more than a few strums of the student toying with the strings of his guitar. The staring she means, and it perturbs her a little; to her own dismay. She settles it down to the emphatically impassive countenance with which the brunette regards her with—yet the determination is evident in the nut brown irises, and that alone makes her face morph stonily. It seems that the teen desires a response, and the mere presence of the cheerleader is another irritation mounting atop her irritable mood.

"Well?" Jade inquiries flatly.

She will not admit that the well-shaped eyebrow hitched directed at her is a little attractive—no she merely chalks the swoon of her stomach to hunger ebbing her empty stomach.

"Here."

Tori slides a PearPhone across the table. And Jade stares at the device vacuously, the brunette has the actual audacity to roll her pretty brown eyes half in amusement, and mild annoyance.

"I need you're phone number if you're going to be my errand girl."

Jade promptly scowls at the brunette and her mouth opens with some witty retort, but then a paper is shoved into her view, halting all insults. Fleetingly she scans the printed words and she can gather that it's some type of a schedule.

"That's the cheerleaders practice schedule for the next few weeks—for if you want to wait and I'm not available at the moment and you're looking for me. So you'll have no excuse of not being able to find me. I'd give you my address, but I'm not sure if I trust you enough with that bit of information."

The comment has her lips uplifting ever so slightly. She loathes the utter fetching allure that is the demanding tone of the cheerleaders voice, and nor do the simplicity of the girls beauty make this entire encounter all the more difficult. Yet then again, Jade will not submit the clever enchantress. So she wordlessly inputs her number into the unlocked device—her eyes roll ironically at the fact that there is no security lock; she duly stores that information for later utilization.

"Okay."

Tori falters at the vague reaction.

"O...Okay?" Tori repeats stupidly.

If the astonishment is meant to be well hidden, then the admiration from the entirety of the school seems a tad bit farfetched, and the assumption if proven correct once the brunette blinks aside the contradicting countenance. Jade lets her eyes flicker to the pursed lips of the brunette, while the teen offers a meek smile nestled between a satisfied countenance.

"Alright then," Tori stands leisurely. "I'll... I will see you around then."

And then her eyes prey on the retreating form innocently—she's offered the generous view of the fit brunette, yet her stare merely reflects the sense of curiosity pertaining to her clueless antics as to how the optimistic cheerleader's mind works. Once Tori escapes her watchful peer, Jade allows her head to fall apathetically onto her accepting arms.

* * *

Often there are moments in which she likes to delve into the semantics of exactly why the universe has such a tendency to form a hectic alliance that inspires the her waywardness towards life in general. Often she does not dwell on the shambles that is her universe, how rampant that specific tumult truly is. This way of thinking often lead to a fanciful—or rather impractical reverie that is more often than not decimated by her own realistic happenings.

Then her own content seems to occur in the tiny things her life has to offer. In the form of her little brother hurriedly sprinting towards her with his stubby little legs doing overtime to reach her as quickly as possible; that sloppy innocent grin of his guiding his exuberance. Or the fond smile of his teacher watching his tiny body collide into her leg. Making her chest swell adoringly, because she was able to create that with her mere presence. It makes her believe that she can do something good—a small good that seems so monumental to her for some odd reason.

So with a genuine grin in all its rarity, pushes off her mothers ratty Impala, and crouches to his level and lets her fingers tickle his stomach mercilessly. She regards his bellowing laughter, in all its prosperity, with a laughter of her own. It last only a few resonating moments, but it's so damn important to her that a tranquility oversees her.

"Hey kid."

Jade chuckles at the pout trampling his lips.

"I no kid Jadey. I a big kid!"

He's so proud and has his chest puffed out to show all that innocent masculinity. Yet the incorrect speech decisively cuts into that macho façade. She's reminded that this is still that three year old whose still afraid to even use the bathroom without someone waiting outside the door. Jade shakes her head fondly.

" _I am_ not a kid Jayden. Or _I'm_ a big kid. But we're not even going to get into how that makes no difference." Jade corrects encouragingly.

She watches in amusement as his mouth twitches silent as he determinedly attempts to repeat her corrections. Shaking her head fondly, Jade offers her help to aid the boy in taking off his backpack. She allows him to totter into the car and into his seat, and smile softly when he's able to buckle himself in—alibit clumsily, but still efficiently.

"I got a star today!"

And he announces it with so much pride that she cannot simply share his enthusiasm.

"Yeah? How did you use your awesomeness to get it?"

He pays her stare from the rearview mirror no mind and instead begins to toy with the very same action figure that Jade had gotten for him last Christmas. It had seen better days, but nonetheless he carries the toy everywhere.

"Tommy got a boo-boo when we played cars. I hurrien to nurse Milssa as fast as I could an got him his favit ban-aid."

There's so many mispronunciations it makes her wince just a little, yet the little dimple in his left cheek appears, the one that only deepens when he's so very pleased with himself. So instead she merely chuckles at his antics and imagines that the situation had probably played out more differently than the retelling he has told. Maybe a little more dramatic with his affiliation with theatrics once blood is involved.

"My, my do we have a little Superman on our hands?" Jade exclaims dramatically.

"Mmhmm... An I can protect you too Jadey an mommy too! Jus like you protect me when daddy yells."

He speaks it with so much certainty, and determination. It reminds her just exactly how innocent he truly is—how free his mind should be, yet however brave his intentions are, she remembers readily why she does all the horrible dealings and illegal brawls. And reminds herself that it isn't exactly his job to worry over their father and his elusive care, or rather lack of.

A flicker of a bitter smile lays on her lips, impossibly saddened, and truly tired.

"That's not your job little man." She murmurs lowly.

Her eyes filter the well-cut lawns, crisp bushes, and overly large homes of the neighborhood. And then she the images of their own old and ratty apartments, broken streets and broken people—it makes sense in a way for these well off parents and bound children to be so ignorant in such a fine bliss. Her fingers clutch the battered steering wheel in a vice grip.

It's all so crucial—the chances she has to give her little brother, because heaven forbids the decisions she's already screwed herself over with her destructive youth.

* * *

 ** _The next few chapters will be all about them...Or they'll progress a little bit or a lot. Really depends on how I go about this._**


	3. Habits of My Heart

**_Tori's thoughts? Perceptions?_**

* * *

 _ **I'll Be Good**_

The arrival was overly mundane—far too mellow, treated so trivial. The memory was so vivid, is still so distinct; for why, Tori cannot fathom. Or rather the ability to decode the purpose of the girl. She can't form any believable stories that entail what exactly motivates Jade, maybe that's where her interest in the peculiar teen lays. Her entire existence continues to define the riveting appeal. Her impression of Jade relies on many moments, so few encounters, but many moments.

…

 _"Andre I'm telling you there's absolutely no way that my mom would—"_

 _It's so sudden. Occurs so obscenely quick, but a little slow. The process; clothed arms encircling her waist, her own thrown into instinct to cling to the only available solid object, and so much raspberries—or maybe that's the scent her nostrils are currently inhaling, but there's also something so untraceable about the scent, a thought she can only momentarily inquire on. Before she can even fathom the occurrence, her body is being righted so effortlessly._

 _And then her vision is invaded with sorrow, a sorrow with so much depth, and baring a flurry of anger. A series of emotions flutter by carelessly; curiosity, concern, pain, anticipation, recognition, then—everything and nothing are the same, and then she's staring into a sea of indifference. It takes a moment to read. Only a second to make a distinction on the apathetic stare that's eyeing her with expectancy. After someone, or maybe Andre, clears their throat, she's aware of the situation she'd stumbled into._

 _Tori removes her hands from the strangely defined shoulders, and she becomes vastly aware of the person she's run into. Well still oblivious to who the stranger is, but more mindful. Tori blinks at the precise step back the girl takes once they're no longer entangled._

 _"Hi," Tori says dumbly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really looking where I was going. I..."_

 _The same look of indifference._

 _"It's fine."_

 _The response is curt, nothing too friendly, but neither aloof. Tori chalks it up to the simplicity of the girls voice, soft and a little coarse around the edges._

 _But that's all she gets._

 _All before she receives a dutiful incline of the head and she's watching the rather beautiful stranger walk away. Eyeing the brown haired teen, with a pair of captivating eyes, walk away from her without showing any of the interest she felt herself, an interest welling inside. Wrapped in a plain black hoodie, and an equally dark pair of pants to match. The overall apparel is so plain and simple._

 _Matter of fact the girl seemed so particularly ordinary._

 _And she begins to believe that the wide range of emotions she's previously seen were a fabrication of her shocked mind._

…

For as long as her memory precedes her, she's always remembered Jade's eyes. Light in hue, dark in emotion. They were always so, still are, so calculative, and earnest on every aspect she's defended. They also seem to be the one detail that she can never truly distinguish. As one who would pride herself in the ability to naturally socialize, Tori was always proud of her developed sense of decoding people.

It was just odd, peculiar that she couldn't ever really get an honest read on Jade. Jade who was so introverted in such a fine way—never shy, but never really outspoken, but somehow always firm in her own defiance. Reserved, but often hostile. Not distant, but not overly warm either. A chilling demeanor that was very clam in more ways than one.

Tori never understood how to define Jade, but she knew the way that others did were incorrect. She wasn't cold, detached, nor was she unkind. Jade was far from, yet so very in-between. Some could say she was a walking complexity but Tori noticed the way in which Jade took action with nothing but simplicity.

Jade was just a mystery—one that didn't try to be one, she was merely a teen that fell into the untraceable.

That's why Tori always noticed her. Why she wasn't so hard to seek out even if Tori did not try. A feat that would aid Tori in watching the mysterious teen from a distance, not creepily of course, but still. Tori noticed the change before anyone did. Had seen the reserved teen become a master of mischief, an existence of trouble, a girl who fought the anger until there was no more energy to do so. And who then turned that frustration into fist fights with some of the student body who dared to test her that day. Morph into the Jade West that had to aid her in setting up the schools Homecoming dance, because she had been the mastermind behind the well conceived manipulation of a now expelled student, and an enraged vice principal Dickers.

Jade had transformed from an innocent mystery to a dark one—turned into a more darker, and unprecedented story that Tori had watched unfold from afar.

And Tori finally has to opportunity to unravel the various emotions she'd seen that day they met, had the chance to solve _her_ mystery. The one she was inexplicably, sincerely and pathetically drawn to.

* * *

Andre had eyed her curiously, an inkling of a smile adorning his lips. Robbie squeaked in surprise, features wide with astonishment, Rex ever sarcastic settled to his left. Cat hadn't really paid the announcement any mind, but the red-head did send her a bubbly grin. Beck simply allowed his shoulders to hike in mild disinterest, but fall honest in understanding. They all eyed her with hitched eyebrows once she defended the teen from their jibes and theories on the rather unknown teen.

"She's not," Tori huffed. "Jade's just—"

"A little cold, distant, odd? Presumably in a cult?" Andre offers jokingly.

Tori scrunches her features into a harsh scowl at the fist bump Beck offers the musician, both of them snickering at the bad joke.

Beck catches her look and offers the brunette a guilty, yet warm smile meant to ease her frustration. He places his hand onto her own, clutching the fork between her fingers viciously; she hates the adoring shimmer within his stare. She does not particularly like the way in which his thumb rubs leisure circles on her hand either. His fondness of her is rather dull as well, but she wouldn't deny him of indulging, only because she loathes the devastation that overcomes the contours of his face. The dim of his eyes whenever she pulls away.

"We're sorry but it's not," He lowers his head conspicuously. "She's just so cut off from the rest of the school. I mean this is a high school of the arts. Expression. And Jade's just a little. Expressionless? Is all we're saying. We can't possibly judge her though. I mean I'm pretty sure her own mother knows nearly nothing about her."

The innocent manner in which he utters the sentence has her stomach trembling offensively. Tori snatches her hand away from his grasp and fiercely coddles it into herself. Her gaze morphs in a cold shamble of her usual warm countenance.

"But _you are_ judging her. With all of the assumptions you guys are clearly making. It's not fair to either of us. Not to her because she's being judged by presumptions and not to any of us, because we have no clue what she's—"

"Why are you defending her so protectively?" Robbie questions curiously.

"Yeah. You know as much as we do about her life. So what's up?" Andre frowns lightly. "Is there some secret relationship you're not telling us about? Or are you secretly in the same cult as she is?"

The howling laughter that the table erupts in has her watching the group in astonishment. Disappointment lurks about her insides, evident hurt leaking into the emotion. And she merely sits there while they continue on, conversation flowing seamlessly between them. It's only when craning her neck to the left does the hurt seep into something much more pure, far more light. A fondness creeps over her at the scene—the hunched over body sleepily probing at the salad in front of her, a wondering floating about her expression. Tori smiles, covertly, and shakes the feeling away with a silent chuckle.

She'll prove to them Jade is much more than any assumption, but the way in which the dark haired teen shoves the lunch tray away and falls into a heap of weariness tells her that maybe she won't have to do that. Maybe Jade could do that on her own.

* * *

 _ **I wonder if there's something deeper here?**_ _ **You'll get a couple of Tori chapters, but more than likely they won't all end up like this one. There's another update coming tomorrow as well. This was far too short in my opinion, so...**_

 _ **Write Ya Later ;)**_


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